


Survivors of the Barricade

by ChasingHope19



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:24:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingHope19/pseuds/ChasingHope19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the people had come through the café's doors and stood with their families, but Enjorlas and Charlotte were the only ones standing alone. Eponine had long gone to join Marius. Enjorlas noticed and went to stand next to Charlotte, putting a reassuring arm around her shoulders. Charlotte smiled at him; everything was going to be all right now; somehow. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survivors of the Barricade

For the first time, the Friends of the ABC let the common people into the small dingy café that served as a meeting place in the darkness of night. It was located in the heart of Paris and was the ideal place for a conference of this magnitude and importance. For almost all the members of the ABC, the meetings were their lives. It was the fuel that kept the fire burning within them. Something terrible had happened.

Charlotte Thénardier was the only woman or girl allowed into the meetings of the ABC, and it was due to her sense for discovering more than she should. It ran in all the members of the Thénardier family. Of course, being friends with most of the members helped a bit. The ABC could trust Charlotte, and usually, it was due to her information that they had not been captured. But she never was at every meeting, and during those times, nobody truly knew where she went. Charlotte stayed on a strict need-to-know basis. That was how she survived. When Marius arrived late, he declared his love for a ghost he had run into, and it shocked Éponine even more than it shocked Grantaire, the drunk who was never shocked. It took a dancing goat to shock Grantaire, and even then he would proclaim that the goat had probably drunken a bit of whiskey. Éponine had been in love with Monsieur Marius Pontmercy ever since she had met him. Éponine and Charlotte met Marius Pontmercy by accident. Their father sent them out to deliver the letters asking for money. It was a pathetic way to survive; living off of someone else’s charity. But then again, what more could the girls expect from the father that threw his own son out with the garbage? It was a pitiful way to exist.When they reached Marius’s house, he answered the door and he and Éponine struck a conversation. Charlotte for the most part kept out of it as she saw the spark in Éponine’s eyes, but she joined the conversation when Marius asked how to tell the twins apart. An hour later, as they started to leave for home, Marius gave them each five francs. Éponine and Charlotte assured him that they did not need it, as they were friends, but Marius insisted. “I don’t want your money,” Éponine had said. 

It seemed senseless, as before they had been living in the lap of luxury. Their mother, Madam Thénardier, had kept them as a child, but as soon as their little brother Gavroche turned two, she threw him out and left Gavroche on the street. Perhaps it was because Gavroche was a trouble causing male and not a beautiful little girl. Of course, now little Gavroche was not so little anymore. He was twelve now, and she and Epoinine were seventeen now. At this time, many of Charlotte’s friends had married now, even in the time they were in. Charlotte did not want to be married – at least not yet – because all the men she was friends with were involved in the Friends of the ABC. They were going to build a barricade in the streets of Paris sooner or later; it was going to be inevitable. The only question was: when?

 

All over the café little conversations were taking place. Joly, the medicine student; was trying to convince Grantaire to not drink. Charlotte fully agreed with him; she had seen what drinking had done to the resident’s at her father’s old inn. When the said residents threw up on the floor, it took hours to clean and days for the smell to disappear. But the smell never did disappear; so many people drank and became sick in the inn. Combeferre, Jean Prouvaire, and Feuilly were engaged in a conversation that Charlotte had excused herself out of. Feuilly was reciting a poem that he had created that moment. It was not as bad as it could have been, but compared to the ones Jean Prouvaire recited; it was bad. Combeferre always liked peace. He said nothing about it. He wanted to find a diplomatic way to solve the monetary difference between the aristocrats and the commoners. But even Comberferre realized that there was no way to negotiate something of this magnitude. Something like this must be fought. Courfeyrac was telling her about the first time he tried white sugar. Apparently his older brother convinced him that it really was snow, so the next winter, Courfeyac was standing in the snow trying to catch ‘sugar’. Sometimes older siblings really were cruel. Charlotte asked Courfeyac if she was ever that mean to Gavroche.

“You?” he asked incredulously. Charlotte nodded. “Char, you’re not as cruel as my dear brother back at the farm. You’ve never gotten stuck at the top of the tree with nowhere to go, have you? No you probably haven’t, you spent almost all your life in the city or somewhere with Gavroche. I don’t think he’d let you be stuck in a tree. But I was! For a couple days all I ate were apples, and they were not quite ripe either. Or did I tell you about the time my brother hid all my pants?”

“What?”

Courfeyrac nodded smartly. “He did. Took me a month to find all of them. A colt was wearing one. How it got there, I don’t know.”

Enjolras finally answered the question that was in Charlotte’s mind. “It’s time for us to decide who we are. Do we fight for a right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked yourself ‘what’s the price you might pay?’ Is this simply a game for a rich young boy to play? The colors of the world are changing day by day.”

Marius was truly in love with his ghost. It was all he talked about, and even eating his favorite cheese, camembert, could not distract him from the mission to find the ghost, wherever and whatever she may be.   
Enjolras tried to urge Marius from finding the ghost, but Charlotte saw that Enjolras had not moved Marius by an inch. 

Suddenly, Gavroche appeared and displayed the Thénardier talent of knowing things he should not when he tried to get somebody to listen to him. They were not paying attention to him; at the moment, Grantaire was entertaining them with his own opera. A drunk man playing Don Juan is not something anybody sees every day.

“Listen everybody!” Gavroche cried. “General Lamarque is dead.”

“Lamarque is dead,” Enjolras whispered, and allowed for a moments silence to mourn the people’s man. “Lamarque; his death is the hour of fate! The people’s man; his death is the sign we await!” 

At that moment, Charlotte Thénardier remembered how she had fallen in love in Enjolras. It was not his good looks, nor was it his charm. It was his belief that everybody was equal; that it did not matter if they were rich or poor. Enjolras did not let anything change who he was, nor did he let anything sway his beliefs. As the ABC called the people in, Enjolras started his speech with a blaze in his eyes. “Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, it is a sign of life about to start when tomorrow comes!”

Feuilly abandoned the recitation of his poem and continued, “Will you join in our crusade; who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?”

“Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!” Grantaire cried.

Charlotte asked, “Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance? Some will fall and some will live; will you stand up and take your chance?”

When all the people had come through the café’s doors and stood with their families, Enjolras and Charlotte were the only ones standing alone. Éponine had long gone to join Marius. Enjolras noticed that, and he went to stand next to Charlotte, putting a reassuring arm around her shoulders. Charlotte smiled at him; everything was going to be all right now; somehow. 

“The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France!” the medical student, Joly, declared. Charlotte raised her eyebrows at that, but it was not the strangest idea that she had heard from Joly. She once heard him say that if you sleep with a rabbit’s foot under your pillow, you would become fast. Courfeyac tried it and all it gave him was a headache. 

Enjolras said again, “Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, it is a sign of life about to start when tomorrow comes!”

At that, the happy-go-lucky man Courfeyrac yelled, “For Lamarque!” Everybody cheered, and went on their way to prepare for the building of the barricade. 

 

Charlotte shivered wildly. She had been shivering for quite a bit of time now; but this one was different from the others. This time, her twin had been shaken considerably. Charlotte guessed it had something to do with Monsieur Marius Pontmercy. Charlotte started to walk towards the one place Epoinine would be – wherever Marius was. And Marius was probably at Cosette’s house. The moment she climbed over the wall, Charlotte spotted Éponine hiding in a tree. Éponine did not notice her, which was odd for her because she usually observed everything before Charlotte saw anything. Charlotte followed her twin’s eyes, and she immediately understood what captivated Éponine’s attention. In the middle of a garden filled with roses and irises stood Marius and Cosette holding hands and it seemed as if they were exchanging vows. And then they kissed. Charlotte glanced at Éponine, but it looked as if Epoinine looked away on purpose, as if she were trying to make sure the cuts on her heart did not become deeper than they were already. Suddenly, Charlotte heard voices, and she recognized one of them. That voice belonged to her father, Monsieur Thénardier. 

Monsieur Thénardier said, “I smell profit here! Ten years ago, he came and paid for Cosette. I let her go for a song, but it’s time we settled a debt. This’ll cost him dear!”  
It was clear that neither Marius nor Cosette could hear any of the voices, and the moment Charlotte decided to jump; Éponine was already on the ground outside the wall. By the time Charlotte reached the door, 

Éponine said, “I know this house, I tell you, there’s nothing here for you! Just the old man and the girl; they live ordinary lives.” 

At that, Charlotte decided to jump in front of her father, “Father, Éponine’s going to scream!”

Thénardier growled. “One little scream from either of you and both of you’ll regret it for a year!” At that, Éponine screamed and Charlotte glanced at her in surprise. She had not bargained on Éponine on actually screaming, yet she actually did. Charlotte did not hear what Marius had said as he bid a hurried goodbye to Cosette, but a few moments later, she felt herself running alongside Éponine and Marius. He rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you, ‘Ponine,” Marius said after a pause, “I’m wondering what you two are doing here, but I run into you both too often. I should probably just not ask anymore.”

“I suppose,” Éponine replied. 

Charlotte shook her head. “’Ponine, I hadn’t really planned for you to really scream! It was just a ploy to make the master run off.”

Marius smiled faintly at Éponine. “Now I know another difference between you two besides your eye colors.” He pointed at Éponine. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind; and you’re not scared of anything.” Marius turned to Charlotte. “And you’re just a quieter version of Éponine, except you’re not as bold.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She hated it when anybody compared her with Éponine, and Éponine felt the same way. Nobody understood their differences as much as they did, and it went far deeper than the color of their eyes. Charlotte’s were a deep blue, ‘as blue as the twilight sky’ Enjolras had said once. Éponine’s eyes were a bright emerald shade of green.

 

The three of them came to an abrupt stop at the Rue de Vallet. There, they saw the Friends of ABC rallying the people. The inspectors and police were not there, which was strange, as they were always there, especially in the heart of Paris. However, whether it was due to the crowd or the night Charlotte did not know, but she was glad for it. Nobody was going to get hurt tonight. 

“Marius, Lotte!” Enjolras greeted. “And this is your sister?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes. This is Éponine, my twin sister. Let’s hope that you know the color of my eyes and my personality or Éponine will slap you when you call her Charlotte.”

Enjolras grinned. “She sounds just like you.”

Éponine spoke up. “I’d slap you for that, but common etiquette from Marie Antoinette states that a woman should at least know a man for twenty-four hours before she slaps him.”

“But she can slap any woman as long as she knows her name,” Marius smiled.

“Marie Antoinette did not really say that, did she?” Enjolras asked.

Charlotte shook her head vigorously. “No, I said that.”

“I might’ve guessed,” Enjolras shook his head. “Come on, Lotte. Maybe you can find your brother at this time, with the help of your sister? Marius, remember that it’s the day before the barricades rise. When our ranks begin to form, will you take your place with me? The time is now; the day is here!”

Charlotte agreed with him. “One day to a new beginning; raise the flag of freedom high! Everyone will be a king. There’s a new world for the winning.”

“There’s a new world to be won,” Grantaire argued. 

“Do you hear the people sing?” Courfeyrac roused the crowd.

Marius had decided whether he would go across the seas with Cosette or stay and fight the National Guard with his brothers. “My place is here. I fight with you!”

As Marius said a tearful goodbye to Cosette, Gavroche yelled, “Tomorrow is the judgment day!” Charlotte grinned as she saw Gavroche’s head peaking above the crowd, as he was so short that Courfeyrac had to carry him on his shoulders. He saw Charlotte looking his way and smirked when he saw Enjolras standing a foot away from her.

Enjolras did not see the exchange between the two siblings and agreed with Gavroche. “Tomorrow we’ll discover what our God in heaven has in store! One more dawn; one more day.”

 

The next day, Charlotte watched as the Friends of ABC built a barricade in the heart of Paris. Both Enjolras and Marius warned the twins to be at a distance where they could not see the barricade; apparently it was a place where the danger could only be faced by men. Neither Charlotte nor Éponine followed this regulation; Éponine was up in a tree again while Charlotte was at Madam Prouvaire’s Café. Madam Prouvaire was Jean Prouvaire’s mother, and he was building the barricade in the Rue de Vallet. When Charlotte saw Éponine, disguised as a boy, climbing up the barricade, Charlotte decided that she would follow her. Sensing that the ladies in the café would not notice that she would be gone, Charlotte slipped out and started to climb the barricade. Just as she arrived at the top of the barricade, Éponine said to Marius, “I know that this is no place for me; still I would rather be with you.”

“Get out before the trouble starts,” Marius said worriedly. “Get out ‘Ponine, you might get shot!”

Éponine just smirked. “I’ve got you worried; now I have! That shows you like me quite a lot.”

Suddenly, Marius’s eyes lit up. “There is a way that you can help. You are an answer to a prayer! Please take this letter to Cosette and pray to God that she’s still there.”

As Éponine climbed down the barricade, Charlotte approached Marius. “God, ‘Ponine, the things you do.” she heard Marius mutter.

“She does do that, doesn’t she?” Charlotte muttered to Marius, making him jump.

“God Char, not you too!” Marius exclaimed when he noticed that the little ‘boy’ who looked just like Éponine had blue eyes. “Éponine doesn’t really listen to anybody, I understand why she did not stay out of sight,   
but I would have thought you of all people might have listened.” Marius winked. “Especially when Enjolras told you not to come anywhere near this barricade.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I thought I was a blue-eyed version of Epoinine!”

“A blue-eyed, quieter, not as bold version of Éponine,” Marius corrected Charlotte. “Can you keep an eye on her? Please, I don’t want her wandering around tonight, of all nights.”

“Éponine won’t do that tonight; a lot of the roads she usually walks on are blocked tonight.”

Marius sighed. “Please? I might not see Cosette again, and it would be nice to know that my best friend is safe.” 

“She’ll probably murder me,” Charlotte warned. “But all right; it’s not as if I have anything better to do.”

 

Charlotte found her sister in front of Cosette’s house delivering the letter to her father. A few minutes after Éponine left the house, Éponine said, “Leave me alone, Charlotte!”

“’Ponine, if you’re going to wander all night, at least make sure you’re safe!” Charlotte cried after her sister.

“Leave me alone!”

“Marius sent me,” Charlotte said quietly. It was her last resort to try and keep her promise to Marius. 

Éponine stopped suddenly. “I’ve given up on Marius. It’s clear that he prefers Cosette to me. Remember that annoying little brat that lived with us when we were still at the inn, Char? She’s the same girl. I recognized the man who took her away. Father claims that the man’s got a brand upon his chest, but honestly, he can’t see through the man’s shirt. 

“I’d understand why Marius would prefer Cosette. Char, she’s prettier than me, richer than me, and probably not street smart at all.”

Charlotte was at loss for words. She was the weaker one; Éponine was her rock, her shoulder to cry on. Éponine had always been the stronger one. “But ‘Ponine, there’s always other men around, isn’t there?”

“Oh Char; you’re the smart one now. I fell in love with Marius somehow; I really can’t imagine a life without him. You haven’t sold your soul to Enjolras yet – you can somehow live without him.”

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “’Ponine, don’t die. Please! You’ve got a whole life ahead of you – you don’t need to throw it all away!” As Éponine started to walk away, Charlotte cried, “Éponine!”

She turned her head to glance up at the sky, and then at Charlotte. “Good-bye, Charlotte. Enjolras was right; your eyes really are the color of twilight.”

Charlotte stood helplessly as she watched her sister walk into the streets of Paris, the rain wetting her hair. She turned in the other direction and started to run back to the barricade. Gavroche needed to know about Éponine’s suicidal plot. Marius did not. 

 

As soon as she was in sight of the barricade, Charlotte heard Joly’s voice. “There’s a boy climbing a barricade!” She looked at the rock mound and saw a familiar shape going to the top. It was Éponine.

Charlotte screamed, “Éponine!” but no one could hear her. The National Guard started to fire at her, but the moment Éponine reached the top, Charlotte breathed. Éponine was safe – for now, at least.

She made a split second decision. Charlotte started to climb the barricade, but slower than Éponine, and she stayed in the shadows. She did not want the National Guard to see her climbing the barricade. It was raining, and it was dark now anyways. Joly’s voice said again, “There’s another boy climbing the barricade!” It sounded a little bit annoyed.

Charlotte smiled. She could almost hear Marius say to Enjolras, “10 francs that it’s Charlotte.”

Enjolras shook his head. “Scared?” Marius asked.

Enjolras shook his head again. “No,” he said. “You’re right.” He pointed at Charlotte’s figured. “First it’s your sister, and now it’s you, Lotte,” Enjolras smiled wryly and used the name Charlotte called herself when   
she first joined the ABC. Now, most of the ABC called her either Char or Charlotte, but Enjolras called her Lotte. “Why am I surprised?”

Charlotte made sure that the National Guard did not shoot yet, and said to Enjolras, “Do you mind if I talk to Gavroche for a moment? It’s about Éponine.”

The smile on Enjolras’s face melted. “I forgot you just came up this barricade. Lotte, I’m sorry, but…”

Charlotte’s face fell. “No.”

Enjolras bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“In that case, can I talk to Marius for while? I won’t murder him, I promise.”

“Lotte, your sister died in his arms,” Enjolras argued quietly. “Marius meant no harm.”

“I know. I still need to tell him something.”

Enjolras thought for a moment. “All right, but I’ll hold you to your promise not to kill him; at least not physically.” 

“Thank you,” Charlotte walked up to Marius and said, “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Marius’s face fell. “If it’s about ‘Ponine, I’m really sorry Char. She’s my best friend. I didn’t want her to die. She’s the one that led me to Cosette; and it’s thanks to her that I am living right now.”

Charlotte bit her lip and tried to hold back her tears. She could not remember the last time she cried, it was probably years ago. Living in the slums of St. Michel did not allow any opportunity for tears. “Marius, what I mean is that Éponine loved you. You didn’t know that Marius did you?” Without giving him a chance to answer, Charlotte continued on.

“’Ponine loved you ever since she met you at the door to your house. She’s been trying for years to find the courage to tell you she loved you, hoping you felt the same way.” Charlotte sighed. “I suppose I should give you some credit. Éponine died in the arms of those she loved. Thank you, Marius, for making ‘Ponine’s last breaths of life happy.”

For once, Marius was at loss for words. “Char, I did what I could, I’m really sorry.” Marius sniffed. Charlotte looked up into his eyes and she could see that, just like her, Marius was fighting to hold back the tears. He reached out to hug her and for a moment, they stood there grieving the loss of their best friend.

“Char, you’ll come to the wedding, please, if I am ever reunited with Cosette?” Marius asked. “If ‘Ponine cannot be there you will, won’t you?”

Charlotte smiled gently. “Maybe.”

Suddenly, a volunteer showed up, he looked a lot like Cosette’s father. “There’s much that I can do.”

After many warnings to not betray the Friends of the ABC, Jean Prouvaire yelled, “They’re getting ready to attack!” 

Enjolras, being the leader he was, cried, “Hold! Fire!”

Marius pushed Charlotte out of the way into safety at the bottom of the barricade. Grantaire apparently tried to push Gavroche into safety as well, but Gavroche resisted. He found himself a slingshot and some rocks and stood like David to Goliath, shooting the rocks at the upcoming National Guard. Charlotte raised her eyebrows when she saw a few men being knocked out on the streets. 

At last, the battle ended. As far as Charlotte could see, none of her friends had been killed yet. Joly, being a medical student, was trying to patch everybody else up before the National Guard attacked again. Jean Prouvaire suffered an arm injury, and Courfeyrac was shot in the knee. Grantaire had a bruise on his cheek, and Enjolras somehow got a black eye. Marius had a few broken fingers that were probably caused by a few wayward rocks from Gavroche’s slingshot. Only she and Gavroche did not sustain any wounds. 

As Enjolras told the fighters to rest, Jean Prouvaire said, “Drink with me to days gone by. Sing with me the songs we knew!”

Courfeyrac smiled. “Here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads!”

Joly looked up from binding Marius’s broken fingers. “Here’s to witty girls who went to our beds.”

“The girls could not have been that witty if they had gone to their beds, could they?” Charlotte muttered to Enjolras. He rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh too loudly, causing Gavroche to smile as well. That boy   
heard everything.

“Here’s to them and here’s to you!” Jean Prouvaire, Courfeyrac, and Joly said simultaneously.

Grantaire stepped up to the spotlight and held up his bottle. Where he got it, Charlotte had no idea, but it seemed to make Grantaire’s mood happier. “Drink with me to days gone by. Can it be you fear to die? Will the world remember you when you fall? Can it be your death means nothing at all? Is your life just one more lie?”

At that, Enjolras asked Charlotte, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Charlotte studied him for a moment, and nodded.

Enjolras took her to the top of the barricade where the watchman usually stood. Charlotte took a deep breath. Now that all the smoke had cleared away and the burials were taking place, they had a fantastic view of Paris.

He gazed into the Seine River, and said, “I know this is terrible timing, Lotte, since your sister just died. It’s just…tonight being the battle and all; I might not be able to tell you that…I’ve never felt the same way with anybody else. I was wondering, Lotte,” Enjolras took her hands. “Will you marry me?”

Charlotte’s face widened into a soft smile. “Let’s concentrate on surviving the battle first, Enjolras. Right now, you’ve got to make sure that we’re still alive tomorrow.”

Enjolras paused a moment, and then said, “All right. Grantaire will probably be through with his bottle by now, and Marius will probably still be pining for his ghost. In case I don’t get to tell you later, Lotte…I love you.” Then he kissed her, long, slow, and sweet.

As they pulled apart, Charlotte said softly, “I love you too.”

 

When they went back to the other members of the ABC, Gavroche winked at Charlotte. Before she had any time to roll her eyes, a National Guard member said to them, “You at the barricade listen to this! The people of Paris sleep in their beds! You have no chance, no chance at all. Why throw your lives away?”

“Let us die facing our foes, make them bleed while we can!” Enjolras retorted.

“Let them pay through the nose!” Gavroche yelled.

“Make them pay for every man!” Grantaire echoed.

Enjolras agreed with them. “Let others rise to take our place until the earth is free!”

Once again, Charlotte was pushed down towards the bottom of the barricade. This time, it was by Enjolras. A few minutes later, however, the Friends of the ABC were losing. Soon, the only men left standing were Enjolras and Grantaire. Charlotte saw the National Guard capture them and tried to run after them. Both of them saw her and shook their heads at the same time. “Go!” Enjolras was mouthing. 

Grantaire nodded. “Save yourself!” he mouthed.

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. Before she could do anything, the National Guard tied Enjolras’s and Grantaire’s hands behind their backs and marched them to their headquarters.

 

She climbed to the safety of the barricade and gasped when she saw them all lying side by side. Joly had a bullet pierced clean through his heart. At least he didn’t suffer, Charlotte thought. Courfeyrac, the happy-go-lucky man who could always make her laugh, even died smiling slightly. She saw a hand-drawn picture in his hands and on it was the face of a pretty woman she recognized as the person Courfeyrac courted for the last three years. Charlotte gently took the picture from his hands. She would somehow give it back to Courfeyrac’s lover. It was the most she could do. They all paid the ultimate sacrifice – their lives – and Charlotte would do almost anything to repay them the best she could. 

Gavroche was little in even death. In his hands was the faithful slingshot he used during the battle. Charlotte felt a stab of pain into her heart. Someone shot a child. Gavroche would never be there again to tease her. As much as she was annoyed by it, nobody could wink quite like Gavroche could. Charlotte bowed her head. Gavroche would not find out any more secrets anymore, either.  
Charlotte looked around for Marius, but she could not find him. The man who looked like Cosette’s father was missing as well. If he was Cosette’s father, he would have wanted Marius safe, if he knew that they were lovers. What would he do to make sure that Marius was safe? Cosette did not know, but if she somehow found Marius again, she would go to his wedding, as she promised.   
Charlotte started to run down the barricade for the last time. Somehow, she vowed, she would find a way to save Enjolras and Grantaire. She had to; their lives depended on it.

Charlotte quickly penned a letter to Enjolras – something about his family needing money, but she added nothing too suspicious. The National Guard would probably open it and read it. But the important thing was the delivery. 

“Monsieur, Monsieur, I have an important letter to deliver; might you know this person’s whereabouts?” she asked, panting from the run she just did through the streets of Paris.

“Miss, do you not see that I am escorting several prisoners here?” an officer growled.  
Ignoring Enjolras’s and Grantaire’s looks, Charlotte said, “Monsieur, it is crucial to a few people’s lives. I have come a long way to deliver it. Do you know of a Monsieur Enjolras anywhere? I looked all over Paris last night and I could not find a helpful soul.”

Enjolras looked up from the ground he was intently staring at when he remembered how stubborn Charlotte could be. “I am Enjolras.”

The officer smirked. “Well, miss, I suppose that your luck has run out. Prisoners about to be killed cannot receive letters of any kind.”

Charlotte feigned bewilderment. “What wrongdoing have they done to deserve that disastrous punishment? Nobody deserves to be shot to dead before God calls them away from the land of the living.”

“Do not talk to me about God!” the officer said, balling together his fists. “Did Jesus deserve to be hung on the cross? Did all the martyrs warrant their deaths? Life is not fair, missy, get used to it.”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. This man really did not understand the life of the poor. “Excuse me, monsieur; you are making a scene in front of the people you are trying to protect. If the National Guard is   
supposed to protect the people, do what Pontius Pilate did to the Jews: offer a current prisoner and these two men right here and see who they will choose.”

Grunting, the officer led Charlotte, Enjolras, and Grantaire to a dark, dingy place that Charlotte supposed was the office. “All right miss, what do you want?”

“I want to know what these men did to deserve the punishment of death!”

Grantaire spoke up. “We built a barricade at the heart of Paris. The National Guard killed all of us except me and Enjolras. There’s not a living soul up on the barricade now, at least I don’t think so. The men that died all had friends and family who loved them; they would be up there mourning them.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up at the word barricade. “Barricade? You both were at the barricade?”

The officer rolled his eyes. “That is what he just said, miss.”

“Do you know of a Gavroche or an Éponine? I am certain they were both at the barricade, Gavroche could never keep his head in his own business and Éponine, well if you knew her, you would know.” Charlotte said   
with a little desperation.

Grantaire hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time in more than ten years, Charlotte let the tears flow. She had been holding them in for the whole night; ever since Éponine died. She had felt strangely disconnected, and she had no idea what she was doing. Charlotte was making this up as she went along.

Seeing Charlotte crying awakened something inside Enjolras. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen her cry. She was always either smiling thoughtfully or staring determinedly forward or arguing diligently. It was not in her nature to be sad. 

Somehow, Enjolras untied the ropes around his hands and went over to comfort Charlotte. It felt right; as if nothing mattered except that the girl he loved was breaking down in his arms.   
Grantaire’s eyes widened at the sight of Enjolras’s free hands, but after a few seconds, he had untied hands as well. The officer had long fallen asleep; he had a long shift that night. After allowing Enjolras and Charlotte a few minutes to themselves, Grantaire walked over to the couple and reached out to grasp them roughly. They were the survivors of the barricade and would always be.


End file.
